Vice
by da45
Summary: You know that moment. The moment you notice him for the first time. THAT guy. The guy. And your entire being comes to life. He was that for me. My Vice. *Not what you were expecting* M just to be safe.


**BELLA:**

You know that moment. The moment you notice him for the first time. THAT guy. The guy. And your entire being comes to life. You are going about your ordinary day, with no expectations, no dreams, no excuses. And then you notice someone and something happens to every fiber of your being. The way he talks, the way his broad shoulders shake when he laughs, the way he's captured his audience, his charisma, his confidence, his sex appeal. It's all there in that one moment. The first moment. The moment he becomes your vice.

He was that for me. He was my vice. Bella Swan; sexy, smart, successful entrepreneur, philanthropist, Forbes 30 under 30; champion of women's rights, and married to one of the most successful billionaires in the world; all brought down in one moment. By one man. By him.

The first time I saw him, I thought nothing of it. I noticed his presence, his being, all of the above, but I thought nothing of it. He was my husband's childhood friend; I had heard of him, but never met him. He was working in London, travelling around the world, playboy millionaire extraordinaire. The man who didn't care about anyone but himself.

We were all at a party, I had a business meeting and arrived late. I was maybe introduced to him, maybe not. I can't remember. He was there with some model arm candy or the other. I was busy celebrating my then boyfriend, now husband's birthday and mingling. I vaguely remember him saying something along the lines of my husband being a great guy. As if I didn't know that already. And that was that.

And then somehow, he became an ever present force in my life. I was in a restaurant in Tokyo and I thought I saw someone who looked extremely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I saw him again at a bazaar in Turkey, and this time was able to match the face to my memory. He didn't notice me, or he might have; I don't know. It didn't matter. I even saw him on a train once from Frankfurt to Paris. How did one man over the course of time randomly pop up into my life so many times. I wondered why his presence was haunting me. This wasn't serendipity. He didn't make our wedding; his father had passed away. My husband considered moving the date; but the arrangements had been made, invitations had been sent, guests had flown in. It was impossible.

And then three years passed. The three years later we were hosting a dinner and all of a sudden I found myself trapped in all that was Edward Cassono. My husband was busy entertaining; it was his 41st birthday and we had a small party of 150 guests. Edward approached me, to get to know me since we had never engaged in conversation. And that was it. One night made me question every constant in my being, every decision I ever made. Even in that first conversation sparks were flying. Have you ever met someone and you were on the same page with them on every level? From your favourite places on earth, to the type of cake you like, to your favourite balcony seat at the Opera, to your favourite drink at that cozy corner cafe. Every sentence you had left a blaze of fire in the air, you were left giddy with excitement; you were shaken to your core. We spent the whole night talking, laughing, and I'm ashamed to say flirting. I couldn't help myself. Neither could he. The pull was so strong that resistance was futile. The night was magic. And thankfully, my husband didn't notice.

Waking up the next day I was riddled with guilt. I justified the behaviour, chalking it up to alcohol and making a new friend. He left, we continued our lives. I made it up to my husband in our bed – many times.

A few months later I found myself in the business class section on a flight back to New York, and low and behold. In walked in my vice, armed in a tailored Hugo Boss suit, an expensive watch adorned his wrist, his tie in perfect place. He wasn't handsome. If I just saw him in a photo I would not bother a second glance. But his presence; his presence took up the room; powerful, playful, and full of charm, he could do what many couldn't, but yearned to do. He was all smiles and fine wine. I wondered if I should duck my head, bury it in a magazine and forget I saw him. He was dangerous, I knew that; it excited me and it was too late; he had taken notice.

He walked over politely; all smiles, there was no one was in the seat next to me. "Well this calls for a drink!" he exclaimed. I knew I shouldn't. I didn't need my sense to be dull. I was smarter than this. And yet, I found myself cheering him with a glass of Macallan 55, neat. And the sparks were back. We hugged and went our separate ways; the next month he was over for dinner. In my lifetime I had become accustomed to the outer shell; and the inner shell. The outside was calm, confident, and charming. The inside was careful calculated in making sure there was no strangeness in her demeanor. And both were riddled with guilt and fire in his presence.

A few days later I was home alone. Emmett was on a business trip, and I was enjoying a quiet night in our penthouse. The city lights were a blaze; I was cooking pasta; Etta James on the stereo, a beautiful red wine in my glass. A content smile graced my face.

Ringggggggg. Odd. No one called the home phone anymore. I chalked it up to a telemarketer and continued stirring the sauce. Ringggggggg. I picked up. "Emmettttt! I miss you man." "Edward?" "Oh, Bella – sorry I thought it was Emmett" he slurred. "No, Emmett in on a business trip."

"Did I call the house?"

"Yes."

"Oh sorry – I thought I dialed his phone."

"All good."

"Well sorry for disturbing you."

"No problem – are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm just a little drunk."

I laughed. "I see you're enjoying your trip."

"ahaha – yea, I'm just out here, sitting on this curb,"

"In Barcelona?"

"ahaha – yes, how are you?

"Good"

"Ahhh Etta James" … "I want a Sunday kind of love…"

"You know Etta?"

"I love Etta!"

"I didn't know you sang"

"ha – only in the shower"

And I found myself on the phone till the wee hours of the morning till we both fell asleep. I woke up the next day to the sound of soft snoring. I picked up my phone and dropped it just as fast. I hung up. A few hours later a text came through "Sorry about the drunk call last night – please don't tell Emmett."

"Not a problem." And that was it.

Two nights later I dreamed of the call again, "You know what I love about you Bella – you give it back just as good." "Men must fall at your feet." "well, you are a beautiful woman" His words played over and over again – causing me to toss and turn. Restless in my slumber.

Emmett came home that week – and I welcomed him – properly. More than once. After that things were never the same. We both turned our hearts cold; polite conversations over the years during parties. I still lusted for him; riddled with jealousy with hearing the musings from his escapades with other women from my husband, but still craving every little tid bit of information I could source. I thought of him often. I turned the other way when his random appearances continued over many instances in my life.

Emmett was a good man, strong, intelligent, kind. He was the man you married. He wasn't fire, but he was earth. Grounded and soulful, ordinary and extraordinary in his own way. And then he left me – it was sudden, unexpected, a vengeful business partner had taken a hit. A hitman shot in an alley, right to his chest; and just like that my life changed forever. He died and I became a wreck. Grief-stricken, I recused to our home; memories of every moment with him haunting me everyday. Friends tried, but after a while gave up; no longer saw me. The staff did what they could. I functioned. Polite small talk, leading business meetings; ever present but never present. Detached. Edward attended the funeral and I could not meet his gaze.

A few years later I was giving a talk; I thought it was funny that they had asked me; initially I had declined, but they insisted. It was at a youth conference. "Young women look up to you," they had said. "a short talk on lessons you've learned in life."

And so I dug deep. I could fake it.

"Good evening ladies… and ladies. It's a pleasure to be here tonight and thank you for having me. Today is international women's day – a day that is very important to me. I remember the day I gave my first international women's day speech. I was 20; and mind you this was over 20 years ago. I was a young university student at a Model United Nations conference in Ottawa and I had no idea I would what I was saying would have an impact. They had asked us to write a short paragraph about which topic we should discuss first; one of them being Gender Issues. I remember awkwardly getting through my passionately written statement about the issues that plagued ½ the world's population. HALF the WORLD's population. Incidentally; it was international women's day that day and I remember ending off my speech highlighting that very fact. And somehow, that speech became memorable - we started the conference discussing gender issues, and during the first break I found myself surrounded by the attendees; congratulating me on my voice and looking forward to working with me. I was shocked and I didn't realize my own power. And that brings me to the first piece of advice I want to give you.

1\. Never underestimate your own power – and the difference you can make.

And so I went. The speech was met with loud applause. It reminded me of the rule I had forgotten for myself; never underestimate your own power. It may have caused a small crack in my otherwise cold dead heart. The young women were full of wonderful, insightful questions and I was grateful that had asked me. Empowering others had always been a cause close to my heart – and through a 30 minute talk, had seeped back in.

After an hour, "we have time for a final question." I said. I saw a hand go up; it was that of a man; expensive watch, tailored suit. Funny I thought – I didn't think any men had been in attendance.

I called upon him, and up stood my vice, adorned in his charcoal Hugo Boss business suit, pink shirt, perfect tie. "What advice would you give to a woman who has lost herself in grief?" And just like that – his presence hit me like a ton of bricks - again. I didn't know how to answer. "I would tell her that time heals all wounds" – it was the best I could come up with.

"Edward, what are you doing here?"' I interrogated after the talk.

"I came to see you"

"Why?" I made sure I kept hostility in my voice.

"Because I needed an old friend."

"Why?"

"Can I tell you coffee?"

"Sigh – fine," How could I turn down someone in need?

"I know the best corner café." He said with that easy smile he always seemed to carry.

In that moment, I felt it. I had missed him.

Edward … brought me back to life. Slowly he penetrated into my life, showing up at my work for coffee breaks, which turned to lunch breaks, which turned to dinner breaks. We would talk for hours, swapping stories, talking about anything and everything from religion, politics, to designer fashion. We would go to games, theatre, movies, festivals. With him I could laugh for hours, he challenged me, he motivated me, he made me remember the young vibrant woman I once was.

He and I decided to work together – a social enterprise targeting poverty and empowering youth and women. I had never been so proud of a project.

A few months later I was having drinks with a friend and his name came up.

"you light up when he's in the room." She commented.

"I do not!" I denied vehemently.

"You do – you're hyperaware of his presence, as soon as he walks into the same room, there's a palpable energy in the room – they way you are with him, you never were with Emmett."

"Stop."

"Bella – it's okay to move on."

"How dare you?" I accused, getting up from the table.

"Bella" My friend grabs my wrist "It's okay, you made a mistake – you're human. You need to remember that over the impossible standard of perfection you set for yourself. .human, and to be honest – you make each other better – you make Edward better" she looked at me with all the sincerity in the world. "I've known him for most of his life – and he has always been aimless, a healthy trust fund, good looks and charm, he's never had to work hard for anything in his life. What you guys are doing with this organization, its groundbreaking. And having a male partner helps. Edward has never had anything to value – except his friendship with Emmett. And although he never showed it; whatever he felt for you plagued him with guilt. It ate away at him during their whole friendship, and more so after. But he cares for you Bella – I've never seen him put in so much effort for a woman – in anything. I see it in the way he looks at you, in the way he is always watching over, being protective over you from a distance. The last 3 years he would call me weekly about updates as to how you were feeling. He's probably followed your every career move, every conference you spoke at, every ounce of information he could obtain about you. I've seen him watch you from afar. Finally I told him to man up and find you – and look at the transformation in yourself Bella. He brought you out from the shell of a person you had become. And neither of you can live like this."

I sat down and broke down into tears.

"Do you think Emmett would ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what Bella – you didn't do anything wrong."

"I developed feelings for another man – while we were married."

"Yes, you might have, but you did everything in your power to avoid them, to not feel the, to not act on them. You were a good wife - you need to get over this inexplicable guilt. You didn't do anything. Feeling something for someone is not a crime "

"I've been in love with a man other than my husband for 15 years!" I broke down – the weight of the guilt, the truth I carried with me for so long finally bursting out. It had taken me so long to admit it to myself but it was true. Although I never acted on it – I had somehow fallen in love with Edward - maybe even from the first moment I saw him.

She looked at me with empathy – and a bit of pity. "So why are you wasting your time running away from him?"

I looked at her.

"GO!" she said. "Go and tell him how you feel – find your happy ending."

And so I did – Edward had a penthouse similar to ours on the upper east side and I found myself in a my car willing the driver to go faster before I changed my mind. Before he had a chance to stop, I threw the door open and ran. He had long given me a key that went to his private suite and I kept pushing the button as if it would make the elevator go faster. I rang the bell and a couple minutes later, there he was, my vice, dressed in a warm black cashmere sweater and khakis with a puzzled look on his face.

"Bella? What are you doing here?" he looked concerned.

"I love you!"

"I'm sorry?"

"I love you, I'm in love with you – I've been in love with you since the moment I met you."

"Edward?" I heard a puzzled woman's voice come up from behind him.

"What's going on?" she inquired in a perfect upper class British accent. I instantly recognized her, she was the new 'it' girl according to Vogue.

"Ahhh" I had never seen him so tongue tied before.

My mind reeled into survival mode.

"I'm sorry" _Quick!_ My brain though – it was fight or flight, I either had to take it back or go full forward.

"I'm gonna go now" I said rushing towards the elevator willing the doors to open. I stepped in and the doors closed. I realized he didn't stop me. I also realized never followed me.

Edward didn't contact me after that. A year went by. But in some ways, it was exactly what I needed. I realized I had moved on from Emmett's death, and although he was gone, he would always be with me, be a part of me, and I had loved him the best I could.

I also realized that I didn't want to be a shell – I wanted to laugh again, I wanted to enjoy the friends and family that hadn't given up on me. During the year I had taken over the not or profit Edward and I started, and it was doing wonderfully. I was able to help many young women flourish, and seeing their successes, I was able to flourish.

And I also realized – I had been in love with an idea. Because a real relationship, isn't about the magic or the fireworks, it was about spending your life with men like Emmett, the good men, the men who weren't cowards and took ownership of their feelings, who did the right thing. The one you ended up with isn't supposed to be your vice, he's supposed to be your soulmate. And I was lucky to have had mine in my life – and to spend some many wonderful years with him. I knew somehow, somewhere, he was watching over me, smiling. And I was smiling back.


End file.
